Vivo La Resistenza
by Lnzy1
Summary: Mirrorverse. The Autobot Empire sets out to makes an example of Central City. Amidst the chaos, one blind girl must find her own way to safety before she is found by the Enemy. But it might already be too late. Rated T for death and language.


_**Author's Notes:**_ This story is set in the Transformers _Mirrorverse_, **not **_Shattered Glass_. Mirrorverse was first. The Mirrorverse stories are far darker and more 'realistic' then Shattered glass and in my opinion far more exciting of a read. If you want to read or learn more about the Mirrorverse fiction, they have a website: mirrorverse . transfactions . net. Just remove the spaces or put in 'Transformers Mirrorverse' into a search engine. Believe me, the people who write those stories are NOT amatures. VERY good read.

This story is linked to the story 'Power to the People' which can be found on the MV web site. HOWEVER, you don't necisarily have to read that to read this, although it does help in understanding what is going on. Essentially, the evil Autobots are punishing Central City for resiting their rule despite being warned of the consequences. Prowl's an evil SOB in Mirrorverse.

**_Disclaimer:_ **I do not own or claim to own Transformers or Mirrorverse or Blaze or even Evil Prowl. Though I wish I did. I only own Mira.

Please forgive any spelling issues. I'm still trying to get in touch with a beta. :(

* * *

**Vivo La Resistenza **

Prelude to: The Girl with Kaleidoscope Eyes

A TF Mirrorverse fanfic by Lindsay Smith.

(Takes place before the events of _Power to the People_)

* * *

Mira didn't know where she was going and only a small part of her cared. Stumbling around the uneven terrain, she reached out ahead of her with her left hand, groping at everything and anything she could touch, occasionally recoiling with a painful hiss when something sharp would brush across her palm or when her hand would smack ungraciously into the trunk of a tree. Sensitive fingers would daftly touched the hard and rough bark and the soft leaves of branches that hung over head would reach out with spindly fingers to nip and grab at her hair and face while sharp pin pricks of thorn bushes stabbed into her legs and thighs. All the while her feet seemed to smack into every rock and slip into every hole that she happened to come across. Her feet were soaked in stagnant water and undergrowth muck, but she disregarded the repulsive squishing sounds and sensations of each unsteady step. In her right hand, she held a white metal cane that stuck out a foot from her, tapping and prodding at and against the seemingly endless obstacles that thwarted her path, obstacles she could not see for herself.

Her red tipped cane was coated in a fine layer of mud, as were the bottoms of her jeans. Here in the undergrowth of the deep Oregon forest, despite being summer, everything was wet and muggy. It would have been a wonderful relief from the blazing rages of the season's sun if she had not been subsequently doused in the ill smelling filth that was a witch's brew of decaying leaves, animal droppings, and rain water.

Beyond her own thumping heart, gasping breath, and uncoordinated stumbling, the only thing she could hear was silence.

And that terrified her.

Where was everyone? The bus ride up the mountain had been a tiring, strenuous one. Around her, people cried and worried as their teacher eased them down from their panicked states. Then the air was suddenly alive with the coughing and unhealthy sputtering of a dieing engine. Everyone tensed as the driver cursed openly and unapologetically while he slammed his feet into the gas pedal, demanding that the aging machine go on. She heard someone ahead of her start to recite the Lord 's Prayer and several others, upon hearing it, joined in. An explosion, faint and far away, caused everything to seize up. The next thing she knew, everyone was crying to get out, stumbling over each other in a mad dash for the door. A thunderous clamor of rushing feet, screams, and curses. She stayed in her seat, waiting patiently and tensely for the teacher to come and help her out of the downed vehicle. Wringing her hands compulsorily around the shaft of her cane, mumbling words of assurance to herself, she waited.

And waited.

Her teacher never came for her. No gentle hand came to guide her to safety. They had left her on bus, occupied solely with their own escape and survival. At first, the realization was crushing, but then was replaced by a kind of angry resentment and she grabbed her things and she marched awkwardly down the bus aisle with new resolve, hips banging into the seats as she went and her feet caught themselves in between their metal legs, threatening to topple her.

Fine! She didn't need them. She was perfectly capable of walking off a bus as the next able bodied person. Despite many peoples' presumptions on what someone of her 'condition' could and could no accomplish without aid, she was in fact wholly capable of taking care of herself!

Of course, she neglected to recall her age old adversary; stairs.

Reaching the top of the short flight of steps that lead out of the raised vehicle, Mira stopped and contemplated her approach. She could never get the hold of stairs without someone's help. After the first one, she was good on her own, but buses' were an obstruction in of their own right. They were awkward and steep, causing her to fear she might misstep. The last was always the scariest with it being the farthest step down to the ground. Every time she was forced to brave it, an unfounded fear that she was about to jump off a very high cliff would grip her. She might as well have been about to leap out of a plane for all she knew. The momentary feeling of weightlessness always rattled her nerves and was always an area of embarrassment for others to see her so scared of something so…mundane. As if she did not have enough to manage on her own without adding the 'fear-of-one-an-a-half-foot-drops' to the list.

Taking in a deep and bracing breath, she stuck out her cane and took the first step. Nothing bad happened. Feeling very happy with herself, she took the next two like a pro. Now she was feeling very happy taking the next. But in her momentary self-reverence, she forgot that the bus had four steps, not five. So when she stuck her leg out, expecting for it to touch the next step, she cried out with a start when it, instead, met empty air. Falling unceremoniously from the vehicle, Mira belly-flopped the ground and her darkened sunglasses were flung from her face to land far from her reach. Her eyes, now unshielded from people who were not there to stare at her, gazed out from her face at a world she could not see. Around her, she could hear the songs of summer birds as they serenaded to one another, the noise wafting through and around the trees. They sounded so peaceful; a stark contrast to the hell that was likely unfolding naught but a mile down the way in Central city.

All those people, she was dismayed to think what was happening to them. Bone chilling dread sent her stomach roiling when her thoughts drifted her family. Her mother was at home with the flu, her father, the general Manager of the steel mill on the edge of town, was at work, and her older brother, Tony, was away attending college in Virginia. How many times had Tony begged his family to come to live with him, away from the epicenter of the Autobots' invasion? Her father had outwardly refused to be badgered from his home again and, likewise, her mother had been too scared to think of relocating. Both her parents were Italian immigrants who had moved to Oregon in the late 60's to escape the violence of the escalating mafia wars there. Mira's great Uncle Anthony (who Tony had been named after) had been gunned down in front of his home after he had 'insulted' a member of the local mob family. Her parent's refused to run anymore. However, it was unanimously decided that Mira would go and live with Tony. Mira found the decision to be unfair.

She didn't want to leave them, but her parents were very stubborn; a trait that seemed rampant in all Italian genes.

"Miracolo," her mother had said in her heavily accented voice, using Mira's full name, "It 'tis much safer for you to go with Tony. He can take care of you better 'den we can here. And when you get out of high school you can go to Tony's college, right across de street, huh? Doesn't 'dat sound wonderful?" No, it had not. It sounded horrible, but she had no leverage in the issue. Her parents bought their daughter a bus ticket to Virginia scheduled to leave that Friday.

The Autobot's attack began at 2:05 pm on Wednesday, exactly 5 minutes after the announcement from one of their officers.

Remembering the suddenness of it all and how surreal it had seemed, Mira could still feel the tight grip of her unknown hero who had helped her out of the class room when everything had become chaos. At the time, sitting in History class, she had no preconceived notion of the events that were to come. Even when the television, which had been playing a video of D-day, suddenly cut off, she was still blissfully ignorant. She hadn't seen it cut out of course, but she had heard the voice of the narrator warp and disappear in a hiss of static.

_All around, her classmates all perked up, wondering what had happened to the video they were likely paying little, if any, attention to. Likely their teacher was fiddling with the damn machine, thinking the VCR had eaten the tape, but not a few seconds after, the static disappeared and everyone around her gasped and she could hear people shuffle in their seats. She heard someone curse. _

"_It's that robot again…" someone said tersely. _

_Another voice, that defiantly was _not_ the narrator of the video, sounded from the television set and everything in the room stilled to a deathly silence. The cold, metallic voice, muddled with annoyance and contempt, spoke out to them. A chill ran through the room. _

"_Residents of Central City; In spite of prior warnings of upheaval and despite our gracious generosity to allow your city to carry on its peaceful activities, your local government has deemed it to be satisfactory to speak out against the rightful rule of the Autobot Empire. Subsequently, reprisal will carried out as dictated by our previous declaration. Central City is hence forth under direct Autobot regulation, effective immediately. All citizens are to report to town hall and surrender unconditionally, relinquishing any and all weapons. Any resistance will be met with force and any who try to flee the designated city limits will be terminated on sight." _

_The transmission cut off abruptly and the class room was silent for a brief moment before it erupted in pandemonium. Girls screamed and cried, boys yelled and cursed, and there was the sound of book bags and purses being scooped up. There was a mass exodus for the door while the teacher screeched at them to stay calm. Confusion and panic filled the room._

_Mira remained in her seat, clutching her cane and book bag, too scared and confused to move. Someone grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet. _

"_C'mon!" _

_She was pulled along through the mob of students as they pushed and shoved their way into the hall. The hand that gripped her wrist so tightly was Mira's only life line and she allowed herself to be guided through the sea of panicked and fear stricken teenagers. Several long minutes of pushing and shoving, cursing and screaming, brought Mira and her mystery champion to the senior hall and towards the school exit._

_The Principal's voice, tight and wavering with dread, came over the intercom. _

"_All students and faculty please listen closely to this announcement," He said. "The school is being evacuated and all classes must report to the student parking lot. Buses are waiting to take everyone out of town to safety. I implore everyone to stay calm and listen to your teachers. Stay together and please stay calm. The buses will take everyone to the nearest settlement outside of the city..." a pause before he added, "God help us…" _

_Then the fire alarms went off and everyone started at the blaring noise that only seemed to worsen the situation. Students panicked and she felt everyone push into her and the screaming reached a crescendo. The reassuring presence of the hand of the unknown hero on her wrist disappeared and she cried out at the loss of contact. She was pushed into the lockers, the locks slamming painfully into the small of her back, before being swept up in the human stream._

"_But they said they'd kill anyone who tried to escape!" She heard a male student cry. _

"_And what do you think they'll do to us if we go to town hall?" Another bellowed. _

"_Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…"_

"_Everyone calm down!" A teacher yelled.

* * *

_

Her foot caught on a tree root, one any fully able person would have seen easily, and sent her sprawling to the floor with an indignant cry of alarm while a definite feeling of 'oh shit' ran through her. Her heart hammered relentlessly in her throat, threatening to leap out, and her temples pounded away with the pulsating beat like the drums of war. Reaching out with trembling hands, Mira groped the ground around her, feeling the spongy moss and the sharp edged of dried dead leaves. The smell of earth drifted through her nose and she realized with a wave of gratitude that she seemed to have reached the dry part of the wood. As if to confirm the notion, she felt a warm presence on her back as the sun shown down on her battered and tired form.

_Oh thank god…_

Scrambling to all fours, she felt around for her cane and finding it just a foot or so ahead of her, she carefully got to her feet. Still shaking from the jarring fall, she took a moment to compose herself and coax her racing heart down from its vigorous rhythm.

The world, for a blissful moment, was quiet and still. There was no rush to move, move, move, no yelling of terror-filled cries of her peers… Just quite.

She had no idea how far she had gone or really in what direction she was going. Even if she _could _see, she doubted that she would have been any better off. People were lost to the woods every day, some never being seen again. With that thought, inspiration struck her. Perhaps if she kept on trekking forward, she would loose herself so completely in the tangled maze of the forest that no robot who came looking for escaped civilians would be able to find her. Enthralled by the concept, she marched forward with renewed vigor. Her pole swung confidently in front of her and marked out the things that threatened to spoil her march. Her cane dropped suddenly and she halted instantaneously.

_A ditch?_ She thought and tapped the red tipped cane against the edge. She heard the faint sound of dirt crumbling and falling from where her cane had struck and then a small splash. Water from the last of the lingering winter rains had made a small creek out of the ditch. Carefully, she lowered herself to her knees and then stretched her cane down into the ditch in an attempt to measure its depth. Arm outstretched as far as she could muster, the end of her cane didn't even touch the bottom. Pushing herself back to her feet, Mira turned to find some other path when she heard a sound, like the snapping of a branch. Frazzled nerves sent her mind racing and she jerked back around when suddenly the ground below her one planted foot crumbled and gave way.

An incredible heat passed over her head as she fell. Shrieking as the world dropped from under her, she plummeted into the deep ditch, back and bottom scrapping against the walls as she slid to a stop at the bottom. The slow flowing water soaked into her clothes and her feet pressed against a number of small rocks that lined the bottom. They clicked and clacked as her feet pushed them away.

"Frag! I missed."

Moaning, she raised her head, mind swimming with a cocktail of vertigo and adrenaline and anxiety. Her arms trembled horribly from the scare of the fall as she gingerly lifted one and pressed her hand to the back of her head where she was positive a nice size goose egg would soon be. Taking in quick shaky breaths, Mira pushed herself into a sitting position. She felt lightheaded and dizzy, her stomach roiled alarmingly.

Harsh, unforgiving laughter mocked her from above.

"_Aw_, did the poor lil' squishy take a tumble?" The voice asked tauntingly. Her body went stiff and her heart seized in her chest. She could hear the ground creaking under an enormous weight and the squawking of offended and frightened birds muddled with the shifting of metal sent her heart racing.

_Oh my god…_her mind screamed incoherently in terror. _It's one of them. An Autobot! _

"You just _had_ to go and make this difficult for us didn't ya? Couldn't have stayed together as group and make it easy, _oh no_. Because, Primus forbid, you humans ever do anything logical," The Autobot moaned. She heard the robot take a few steps to the left and a few steps to the right as if he were casually pacing on the ridge directly ahead of her. Her hammering heart was like drumming in her ears. Her fingertips pulsed along with every beat and her mouth was parched. Everything hurt and she felt hopelessly cornered.

Above her, an Autobot of unknown size loomed and Mira was conflicted with the desire to see her executioner and the primal fear of what she might see if she could.

Her cane…where was her cane? Fingers trembled as they slowly and quietly searched while her mind and ears were devoted their attentions to the imposing mechanical monster.

He continued to taunt her.

"Running off like that, _tsk tsk_. Bad girl. You heard what Prowl said: all civilians were to report to the town hall. To surrender unconditionally." There was a momentary pause during which she could hear more shifting of metal accompanied by the soft murmur of hydraulics. "Should've listened."

Mira licked her dry lips. There was a slight tremor in her body and she felt ill.

"A-are….are you going to kill me?" She found herself asking. Her hands rolled into fists at her sides, body having gone rigid, and an overwhelming terror gripped her. She was momentarily stunned she had any voice left to speak with.

"Don't take it personally," The voice said nonchalantly. She heard the shifting of metal again and the distinct sound of a cocking gun, "Orders an' all that. You understand. Well, good-bye squishy. Nice meeting you."

Miracolo Sanci braced herself; shutting her eyes closed, clenching her teeth, and for a flash of a second she revisited her childhood and her short years as a teenager until abruptly returning to reality. She could imagine in her mind's eye, a looming tower of metal, hoisting a long barreled weapon at her with the end pointed directly in her face. Was it a projectile weapon? Or a laser? Did they have lasers? Everyone was saying they were aliens, so maybe they did like in Star Wars or Star Trek. Why didn't she listen to the news more closely? Why didn't she listen to her Father when he read the newspaper articles out loud? Why? Why?! _Why?! _

"_Why_…?" She breathed, suddenly feeling hot liquid stream down her cheeks.

She heard a soft click and flinched, nearly jumping clear out of her skin, having expected it to be the predeceasing sound before the crack of gun fire – or was it laser fire? – split the air and pull the young life out of her. But there was nothing.

The metal giant cursed. "Fragging glitched piece of slag! It's always jamming like this in the middle of missions!"

There was a rapid sound of clicks and clanks that seemed to have a rushed, almost annoyed, tinge to them as the Autobot went about un-jamming his weapon, all the while muttering darkly under his breath. "Slagging military issue weapons to the pit...stupid Prowl and his orders…nothing wrong with my own rifles…but no, high an' mighty commander nimrod deems them to be too wasteful…stupid Iacon manufactured know-it-all…Agh! This piece of outmoded scrap's gonna get me killed one these days."

Mira relaxed marginally. She saw, figuratively speaking, a window of opportunity. Maybe she could appeal to his better nature…if he had one. Taking a bracing breath, she spoke up.

"W-why won't they let you…use your own?"

"My commanding officer is aft. That's why."

"Why not just…get a new one? Or…get it fixed?"

"Because no Mech with a working processor would ever try and bargain a weapon from Ironhide and I'm not risking getting my aft blown off in Wheeljack's lab."

"You could always…just leave and say you killed me."

The Autobot chuckled darkly. "Nice try kiddo. But no dice. I never leave a job unfinished. Never. I guess I could just step on you…_but_ I don't want all that nasty organic fluid and tissue all over me and have it gunk up my joints and all. Nu-uh, no thanks. I don't understand how Cliffjumper could like coating himself in human circulating fluid the way he does. It's_ disgusting_. And one little human isn't worth a trip to the repair bay to have Dr. Psycho unclog my joints with an arch welder. No, you'll just have to wait, sorry. But hey, at least it'll be more…what's the word, ah! Humane. It'll be more humane this way. No suffering. No loose ends. Quick and clean—,er well, relatively clean."

She heard the clinking of his attempts of fixing his rifle resume and Mira quickly began to wrack her brain with anything, everything, that may help her. Her nerves were shot. It was hard to think straight. Her cane! Where was her stupid cane? Like a toddler desperately looking for a lost teddy bear or blankie, and with her adversary distracted, she began the search for her cane once more. After a short period of time, she found it a few feet from her left leg. With slow movements, and without sound, Mira bent forward to retrieve the wayward object. Her hand gripped the handle and she pulled, the metal shaft of the cane scraping against the rocks. She winced at the sound.

The Autobot's irritated shuffling ceased and he barked at her. "Hey! Stay where you are or I really will just squish you with my foot! And put down that…thing."

She froze, but did not let go of her cane.

"I said put it down," The Autobot repeated.

Her entire body was sent into uncontrollable shivering.

"It's just my cane," She retorted, the bravado of her voice overshadowing the fear that caused it to waver and shake. "It's just…my cane…"

There was a thoughtful pause and then a laugh, short and humorless.

"What a stupid choice for a weapon. Even your primitive projectiles are leagues more efficient then a metal stick," He remarked disdainfully. "I won't ask again; drop it."

"I-it's not…not a weapon," She stammered pleadingly. If she was allowed anything in her final moment, at least allow her the comfort of having her cane. "I need it to…I…I use it to see…"

A loud, boisterous laugh burst from the robot, sending a ripple of motion through the woods. Birds chirped in alarm and annoyance before flying off to find less noisy perches. A tickle of leaves rained down on her as she sat in the muddy soup of the ditch, quivering and waiting for her death. "Do you think I'm stupid, Human? Do you think I was just sparked last cycle? _Hm?_ You don't make it as far in the Autobot ranks as I have by being gullible. I'm far too perceptive to gullible. If you are going to lie, you could at least make it sound _convincing_."

She didn't want to let the cane go. She couldn't. It was a sense of comfort, something tangible and real to hold onto during a set of circumstances that, even now, felt unreal and inconceivable. Even in the face of death, she still wasn't yet able to believe she was about to die. It was wrong, all wrong. Nothing was right. The sky was down and the ground was up, birds barked and ducks meowed. Trees were made of marshmallow and everything was moving in a kaleidoscope of colors. Beyond the inky blackness that had dominated her life for years ever since the car wreck that claimed her sight, she could see color; reds, and blues, violets and oranges. Red. There was lots and lots of red. Swirling around without direction or meaning inside a young mind trying to explain why she was there, how had she come to be there, and where she was going. A mind that, despite everything, would not yield to the looming demise that was being delayed by a single jammed alien rifle.

Her stubborn Italian genes would not allow her to relinquish her only anchor.

"I'm not lying! I really do use it to see."

"Stop trying to goad me on. You're starting to annoy me. Now drop the stick, fraggit!"

"Really! I need it because I'm bli--"

"Don't say _argue_ with me you little _worm_!" The Autobot snarled. The ground shook alarmingly with a loud crash directly in front of her. Rocks and water flew everywhere, pelting her shivering form. Mira screamed, raising her hands to shield her eyes. The cane was ripped from her hand and she heard the screech of shredding metal and a _whooshing_ noise as the giant tossed it aside. Hard, and startlingly warm, fingers of a giant hand wrapped around her and she was lifted up roughly with a rush of vertigo. The enormous digits crushed the breath from her lungs and she gasped desperately to refill them. Her stomach dropped from her body and her head swam. Panic like nothing she had felt before suddenly settled upon her and the realization that she really was going to die finally hit. Her hands splayed on the cruel metal and tears wrenched from her eyes. Blank and colorless, they stared out ahead of her in terror.

His grip suddenly loosened.

"Oh," He said flatly. She could feel his cold mechanical eyes on her and she quivered in their light. "I get it. You see with the stick…ha. 'Cause you're blind. Hm. My mistake."

"Please…" She wheezed through the tears. "Put me down…please…"

A tense pause.

"Hm," He considered. "Nah, I don't think so. I just got an idea how to do this clean and easy without a fritzy rifle."

_No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no…_ Her thoughts rambled in a mantra of denial, trying to congeal themselves into something recognizable, but fell apart rapidly. She felt ill with fear and her breathing was accelerated, coming in as fast heavy gasps. There was a sense of motion but without sight, she couldn't know anymore then that; where he was taking her or what he planned to do to her once he got there. The questions tore into her.

His assurances of a 'humane' death were of no comfort.

"Just so you know," He told her, "I don't take any pleasure from this kind of work. No challenge. I'm a hit man by trade and I take my job very seriously. So whenever I get stuck with this human tracking scrap, it's irks me. Frag, if I hadn't been ordered to scrap you guys, I wouldn't have even bothered. But like I said before: Orders and all. You should be thankful you strayed away from the rest of them--" He chuckled, "--well, considering your unfortunate 'condition' I don't think that was even intentional. You're one lucky fleshy you know that? Cliffjumper would have torn you to pieces with the rest of 'em. Or mow you down in his vehicle mode. Whatever strikes his fancy at the moment. He's a bit trigger happy, y'see. I wonder how he gets all that organic muck out of _his_ joints."

A dazed, transparent glaze fell over Miracolo's face.

_Dead…? They were all dead? Everyone? _

"What about the city?" She asked, hysterically desperate. "What are you going to do to the city? All the people who surrendered?"

"Oh they're dead by now for sure." His tone was indifferent, almost casual. "The others have probably torched the place already."

Her mind froze and something inside her screamed.

Hot tears dripped from her face in frantic denial. No. They weren't dead. No. No! Her parents…they couldn't…they weren't! NO! Everyone she knew, everyone she cared for! Her life, her world…it couldn't be true. You couldn't just erase so many lives in such a short time! It was impossible! No…no. NO!

And then she realized, the scream wasn't coming from inside her, but from her. Frenzied now, she began to wiggle in the Autobot's hands. Ineffective as it was, she wasn't going to remain docile. If she was going to die, she was gonna go down hard and with a_ damn_ attitude!

"Hey, stop that." The hand's grip tightened. She ignored him and screamed.

"Let me go!" She shrieked, thrashing and yelling, pounding her hands against the metal of his hand until they hurt; her voice was a high pitched shriek. "Let me go right now! You fucking bastard! _Murderer_! You're _all_ murderers without a conscious or a heart! You have no honor! I hope you all die _agonizing_ and _humiliating _deaths and suffer a hundred years for every life you took! Go trip and fall into a_ volcano_ you fucking demons! God _damn_ wherever the hell you came from! _Vivo la resistenza_!"

Surprisingly, the hand released her. She plummeted to a ground of tall dry grass sprouting up like thin scratchy fingers. The earth was flat, not uneven and rocky like the forest. A gentle breeze swept through the area, bringing with it the faint scent of fire. She crumbled under her own weight as she fell, her knees slamming in the earth and causing a pain to shoot up her thighs. Tears poured from her eyes and sobs ripped from throat. She swallowed thickly and snapped her head around towards where she though the Autobot was, glaring with all her might.

From above her, a dark voice, heavy with annoyance and disdain, spoke to her. "You have ten seconds to get as far away from here as those pathetic twigs you call legs can carry you. Starting now."

Without another thought, she turned from the Autobot's voice and ran, as hard and as fast as she could push her legs to move, not caring where she was going or that she couldn't see where. She knew one thing for certain; she was running as far away from him as possible. Where she would go, if she would make it…they were all questions that were in her mind, but made little impact on her.

Run, her mind screamed. Just run and keep running…

Her steps were awkward and unsteady. She was not use to running, but it was something instinctual you never forgot how to do. As her legs pushed harder and faster then they had ever gone, the wind whisping through her hair and caressing each strand, a strange sense of calm and release passed over her. She had never felt as free as she did then while she was running at that moment.

Running for her life.

She heard the wind and the soft twit-twittering of song birds. The smell of earth filled her senses and she tasted the air. Absolute freedom.

A soft sound alerted her to the sky. A faint whistling. She turned her head towards the noise and something hard and heavy collided with the side of her skull with sudden, bone cracking force. Sound and sensation disappeared in an instant and her body crumbled to the ground.

* * *

Blaze watched as the small organic fall several kilometers from where he stood. The rock had missed its intended mark, but still managed to hit the target itself.

He could live with that.

All in all, he did not consider it a real job, a real hit. Where was the honor in terminating these humans? They barely put up a fight. No challenge. No glory. Pointless and a waste of energy as far as he was concerned. But then, he was not one to point such things to his superiors or else he should find himself in a number of grisly places; Perceptor's lab, Ratchet's repair bay, Prowl's office, or…Lord Prime's quarters. He had only visited the room once, and under good terms, but never again if he could help it. He couldn't help but worry about saying something stupid and having his own cranium stashed atop one of those hellish shelves alongside Prime's old defeated adversaries. He cringed at the mental image.

The human had been taken care of easily enough, requiring only a single well aimed rock to bring her down. Had she not turned at the last second, the rock would have struck her at the base of the skull, breaking the neck bones and likely severing her spinal cord. A quick painless death as he had promised. But instead, the little organic had chosen to be defiant to the end and received a likely painful hit to the temple. If it had not killed her instantaneously, she would probably bleed to death. Perhaps she had even been paralyzed? Oh well. Some wild organic predators would likely pick her up within hours and rid any traces of her existence.

He turned to leave.

Humans. They were so small and fragile creatures, he had observed. The tallest of their race barely reached to the top of an average Mech's knee plate, yet they acted as though they were the bigger, more superior, beings; that they had the bigger stick. As he had heard Prowl state it, they were illogical creatures who resisted the natural order of things by opposing the Autobot Empire's rule.

Still, it was poetic in a way, he supposed, if not exceedingly irritating; little beings standing up to the more superior, stronger beings. He was beginning to see why Lord Prime found these creatures to be such a nuisance and why they needed to be dominated. If _one _organic could be this defiant, and annoy him so directly, he could foresee a very hindering problem with the population if they weren't dealt with properly.

How dare such a lowly creature accuse _him_ of having no honor! He lived by it. Honor and glory drove him to push himself farther and farther in his craft. She knew nothing about honor. A little creature that's existence was but a blip in the grand scheme of things. How could she know let alone understand the true meaning of honor. It was laughable.

He turned back to the field of dried tall grass for a moment to pick out the blind girl's body amongst the organic yellow vegetation and frowned. Her last words baffled him. He could still hear her voice ringing in his head.

"_Vivo la resistenza_!"

What the frag did that mean? He made a mental note to look it up later. Right now al he wanted was to get back to the Ark, lock himself in his room and overcharge till he couldn't see straight. What a glorious expedition this phase of the expansion turned out to be. Spend a few day cycles hunting tiny bipedal organics and then returning to base for an overcharge, a fist fight or two, and then trek back into the field to hunt more squishies. Oh the glory…

_Not._

On other conquered planets, there had been so much glory to be won. Plenty of worthy and challenging foes to sharpen his skills on. Like Nebulous. Now that campaign had been glorious, earning Blaze a formal recognition from Lord Prime himself. The Nebulous victory was the success that had landed him a spot aboard the Ark, and subsequently landing him on this mud ball. Irony, it seems, had a sense of humor. The native Humans were like the Nebulans in many ways; small, organic, primitive. But while the Nebulans were vastly inferior to Autobots, they were certainly more advanced then these…apes. Humans were stupid, panicky, ignorant, and weak minded. They barely resisted beyond screaming and running around without coordination.

Staring at the still form of the female organic, Blaze narrowed his optics further and felt his system heat with ire. Something about her last words bothered him. Slinging his glitched Energon rifle across his shoulder, he started the arduous trek back to the rendezvous point to meet up with the others.

He disappeared back in to the shaded wood, shoving the matter out of his processor and began to contemplate his artillery problem.

* * *

Conscious was slow to return, but sensation was not. Everything hurt and throbbed, it took her a long moment to recognize pain and to give it a name. Her hands twitched, feeling a hard surface under her that caused certain pressure points of her body to ache in tenderness from laying there for so long. She couldn't seem to ground herself and her head swam in the darkness. Her head was killing her. She tried to sit up, but a strong throb between her temples forced her back down with an ill groan. She tasted blood. For a long moment everything was still and deathly silent. She couldn't even hear the wind. It grew cold and the ambient chill made the pressure in her lower abdomen more prominent and harder to ignore. Again she tried to get up, this time to answer the undeniable call of nature, but the pain throughout her anatomy stymied her into submission. Without any alternative or any shame, she relieved herself then and there.

Sound slowly returned but was warped and bent and almost inaudible, and she could only hear out of one ear. She heard noises, mingling above her. She felt something touch her shoulder, gently pushing her. She groaned. The sounds grew more fervent and soon another sound accompanied the first.

Belatedly, she realized they were voices. She felt something touch the side of her head and her body went into spasms of pain.

The vague voices began to clear and she began to make out words.

"…you hear me? Hey, girl, can you hear me?"

"Jesus Christ. How long do you think she's been out here?"

"A while I'd say."

"Look at all the blood. It's a damn miracle she's even alive!"

"Well, she might not be for long so go get the truck. We'll take her back to base with us."

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Nat? I mean, what if those robots just left her out here for people like us to find so they could kill us all?"

"I don't think they're that patient. Besides, she might be a survivor from Central City."

"Central city? I thought they already got everyone from there."

"Looks like someone got sloppy. Check out her head, see that?"

"…yeah."

"That's force blunt trauma. Look to your left, man."

"…"

"Look at the rock stupid, not your foot."

"Oh…ah, shit."

"Yeah. So go get the damn truck!"

"Alright, alright, I'll go get the fucking truck. Hold your panties."

She remembered being picked up, body screaming in fire and pain at being moved. She wanted to protest but was quickly reminded how impossible that was. Her head split open and she felt warm sticky liquid drip down the side of her head. She opened her eyes to see the inky blackness of her vision sway and warp before clearing into bright perception she had not seen sense she was a child.

She screamed and raised her hands to cover her eyes. Beside her, a shadowed form jumped in surprise.

"Shit! What's the matter with her?"

"I don't know she just started screaming!" A hand grabbed her wrist and tried to pry them off her face. "Hey! Girl, hey! What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong?"

The young man successfully forced her hands off and he stared into her eyes. Brightly colored irises of mingled red, blue yellow, brown, violet, and black, stared up at him like a kaleidoscope. He gasped and pulled away, startled.

"Holy shit, dude. Her eyes…"

Mira's mouth opened and her voice was thick with varying emotions as she coughed up blood and sputtered, tears dripped from her wide colorful eyes and mixing with the blood, "I…I c-can see!"

* * *

_Vivo La Resistenza_ (Italian )- 'Long live the resistance'.


End file.
